Rome
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| St. Peter's Basilica (from the Dome) |
I spent eight years studying Latin. I translated Caesar and Cicero and Suetonius and Ovid and I believe in Romulus and Remus and the she wolf and all of it. In my readings I crossed the Tiber River several times and followed Hannibal and the elephants across the Alps.
So imagine my delight in seeing Rome for the first time. It was like a giant pop-up book, voila Rome!
I thought it very nice of Rome and the Italian people to preserve it all for me. When we drove in from the airport and I got a glimpse of the city wall, I mean THE CITY WALL, and the Coliseum and The Forum I burst into tears.
Or maybe that had something to do with the taxi ride from the airport. We had a wild driver named Dave and he put in a cassette of Rawhide and sang along at the top of his voice (rolling, rolling, rolling) driving like a bat out of hell. He was clapping to the music so much that he had to drive with his knees!
Darr had been to Italy in 1972 and he once again assumed the role of Nazi Tour Director (NTD) with very specific marching orders. So on day one after a red eye we went to a Salvador Dali exhibition, the Spanish Steps, the Trevi Fountain, and the Coliseum, and dined at Tre Scalini on the Piazza Navona. This is where I learned that you should not ask for butter, and that pasta is only the first course (primi piatti).
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| The Coliseum |
I spent hours at The Forum, and was absolutely amazed at what I was seeing, the Roman Senate? My God. The platform from which Caesar made his speeches? It was all there waiting for me. And seeing the bowels of the Coliseum where they kept the lions completely floored me.
One day we took a bus to Vatican City, crossing the Tiber River, and went to St. Peter’s square with the other “pilgrims.” We got to go through a special gate called Porta Sancta that is only open every 25 years, thanks to the Great Jubilee. The first thing we saw inside was the beautiful and well-protected Pieta. When Darr visited in 1972, it was just months after it had been damaged in a hammer attack. The sculpture made the mother in me very sad.
We climbed the 320 steps to the Vatican Dome (in my journal I note “Thank God, I am a Stairmaster Queen,” really?)
From this view I noted the striking Italian color palette of red and yellow and peach and pumpkin and burnt sienna. No whites, no grays, no steel.
I was just dumbfounded to find myself sipping a cappuccino at a café on the Piazza del Rotunda right across from the Pantheon, built between 113 and 125 AD.
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| Streets of Rome |
On the streets of Rome, my God, the drama. Men dressed as gladiators smoking, nuns pushing wheelchairs, musicians, performance artists. During our stay Lazio won the soccer championship and in the midst of the celebration a man jumped out of a car to steal an Italian flag. Then the store owner ran out, grabbed the flag and hit the thief on the top of his head with the pole.
This city has such a density of good looking people, moving fast, smoking fast, tanning fast, on their Mopeds and cellphones and wearing their dark glasses. Before I went on this trip people said “you’ll love Florence and Venice but Rome is just another big city.” Ridiculous, it is like no other city. Man did I love it.
Florence
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| Boboli Gardens |
We took Florence like a Roman general according to my journal. We marched over the Ponte Vecchio to the Palazzo Pitti and then toured the Boboli Gardens, through a stand of cypress trees planted in 1637, climbed up to Neptune’s Garden, and on to the Kaffehaus with a view of all of Florence. Wait, there’s more. We went back over the bridge to Il Duomo, which I was thought was painted but no, it’s made of from green, pink and gray marble; it was closing but we got a quick look at the Gates to Paradise. By then I thought the real gates to paradise were the doors to our hotel room.
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| Il Duomo |
On our anniversary (May 17th) we joined a group tour to Tuscany. First we stopped in the medieval town of San Gimignamo, and then on to sweet Siena which is still considered a rival with Florence for its beauty. The city is divided into sections that are designated by adorable animal mascots—like the caterpillar, the frog, the eagle.
We ate lunch at a dark restaurant called Gallo Nero. We wanted to request that the musicians play our wedding song, but I am ashamed to say that at the moment I couldn’t remember it. (It’s Fascination, by the way.) I am not sure it could have been properly rendered on an accordion and flute anyway.
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| Michelangelo's David |
The next day we went to see David at Galleria dell'Accademia. Astounding that you can see the veins in his arms carved out of marble. Come on. We went from there to Il Duomo, and then the Uffizi (chock full of DaVincis, Raphaels, Boticellis) and then on to my favorite activity—a seat at an outdoor café for a drink and a smoke (yes, I smoke when I am in Europe, I think it’s the law) and glorious people watching.
Venice
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| Orchestra on Piazza San Marco |
In my journal I wrote that Venice looked just like Venice except bigger, grander and more real. Endless wandering on Piazza San Marco, in all its dazzlement. There were three little orchestras scattered about, and then like a scene from a movie, a bride and groom crossed the plaza and all the musicians broke out in The Wedding March.
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| Wedding in Murano |
The next day we took a free boat ride to Murano. Of course there is no such thing as a free boat ride and it was all a ploy, after a brief demonstration of glass blowing, to get us into the gift shop. But from there we broke free and wandered around Murano where we saw red and yellow houses side by side, kids climbing trees, and a huge wedding.
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| The Grand Canal |
We went on a gondola ride and were amazed how the gondoliers navigate and turn in such narrow spots. A gondolier was singing Volare on the boat in front of us. Again just like a scene out of the movies. Speaking of which, Darr spotted a real movie star, tall, handsome, craggy face, beautiful white hair, blazer, glamorous wife/girlfriend and we just couldn’t place him. In the night it came to Darr—it was James Coburn!
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| Castello |
On our last day we ditched the tourists and went to a sestiere (neighborhood) called Castello, home of the Venetian Arsenale and the widest street in Venice, Via Garibaldi where we enjoyed a wide and long lunch at the Golden Ox. It was in Castello that we felt as if we saw the real Venice, people hanging out laundry, kids playing in the street.
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| San Marco Basilica |
We also climbed up into the Campanielle in St. Stephen’s Cathedral and the bells rang while we were there. Just for us. For our anniversary. We also hit the San Marco Basilica with the 2000 year-old bronze horses and its floor of gold mosaic tiles. And we swung by Peggy Guggenheim’s villa to see the Collezione.
During breakfast at the hotel one morning I put my chocolate croissant in a microwave to warm it up and was yelled at by a woman who told me “it is not possible!”
Well I knew that it was possible, because I had done it the day before, and isn’t everything possible in Italy? From my experience, yes.
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| Happy Anniversary to us! |
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